


No Strings Attached

by Mango_the_lemon_fox



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Human AU, M/M, Remus is a good older brother, Romantic Fluff, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, i don’t know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24596104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_the_lemon_fox/pseuds/Mango_the_lemon_fox
Summary: “I don't have one, a string.”“I don’t either.”“What if..we acted like each other’s. I don’t want to get made fun of......”“I think that might work..no strings attached?”“No strings attached”
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 116





	No Strings Attached

When Roman was 6, his favorite season was spring. He’d sit out on the curb watching the cars drift by like birds in flight, feeling the wet breeze against his (likely bruised from climbing a rock or tree) cheek, and walk down to the lake to feed the fish with his older brother. Roman could always tell when spring was coming, but not by the lush greenery, baby bunnies, or frequent rainfalls, but instead by the sea of roadkill flooding his bus route. One time his brother even tried to bring some roadkill back claiming it was a ‘science project’ but their mom didn’t buy it. 

When Roman was 10, he learned that time wasn’t just a feeling but a measurement. His brother had found an old grandfather clock in the dump down the road and fixed it up. Roman loved that clock's protective smile, the way it would provide a comforting shadow as he ate his breakfast at their beaten up kitchen table. Then their dog ended up knocking it over; The old thing crashing down and splattering bits of metal and rotten would across the tile floor. And as Remus dragged it back to where it had come, all Roman could think was how more aware of time he’d be when it didn’t tick every morning when he woke up for school. 

When Roman was 12, he learned about strings, the multicolored, multifaceted, strings everyone has tied around their wrists. Usually appearing around the age 12, the ones only the holder can see, the ones that lead to one's soulmate. This scared Roman. What if his soulmate didn't like him? That was one question everyone was too scared to ask their teacher that early Monday morning. But it was going to be ok, Roman was sure of it, he’d make sure he was the perfect soulmate, even if he destroyed himself trying. 

When Roman was 13, he met Virgil. They had found themselves teaming up in an intense game of manhunt during a school social. Nestled up together behind a thick mossy tree, uncomfortably sitting in a patch of brambles. Of course Roman had ‘met’ Virgil before, but as far as either of them were concerned, they had been nothing more than aquentencies. And as they sat together with beads of sweat dripping down their brows, the yells of seekers and hiders alike piercing through the early fall air, they started to talk, and talk, and talk. 

And as the early night grew old, “I don't have one, a string.” Virgil had said, voice like someone on death row, the cry of a vulture.

“I don’t either.” Roman had replied weekly. 

“What if..we acted like each other’s. I don’t want to get made fun of......” Virgil trailed off.

“I think that might work..” Roman beamed. “no strings attached?”

“No strings attached”

Roman and Virgil began spending a lot more time together. He’d invite Virgil to sit with him with his two friends, Patton and Logan. They’d all study together, bike around town, and sometimes just hangout at the local beach. Virgil joining their group just fit, (especially when it helped Logan find out his soulmate was one of one of Virgil's friends) even if Roman and Virgil had a tendency to bicker. 

“That’s..that’s stupid.” Virgil deadpanned, elbow rested on his desk as the three sat together in an empty classroom.

“Cheating is not stupid if it’s done well!” Roman defended, his arms empathizing in an over dramatic manner, over dramatization increased by the fact that he was standing on top of a desk.

“Yes, yes it is! What if you get caught!” Virgil criticized. 

“I won’t!” Roman yelled, wobbling slightly as he almost fell off the desk.

“Guys, I don't mean to interrupt, but Roman maybe you should get down.” Patton piped up, looking up from the small drawing he had busied himself with.

“Fiiiiiiiine.” Roman grumbled slumping off the desk and slinging into a chair with his arms crossed. 

“Hey wait, where’s Logan?” Virgil asked, looking around at the dusty room, silky sunlight streaming through the cold blinds.

“I think he’s off with Janus or something.” Patton mumbled as he drew some more grass on his landscape.

“Love birds..” Roman drawled.

“Just like you two.” Patton smirked as both Roman and Virgil burst into stark silence. 

“You told him!”

“Well, we were going to have to eventually!”

“It’s ok, I can keep a secret.”

And they just went from there. Virgil and Roman would hold hands when they walked through the halls, they made up a story about when they first figured it out, they would go on ‘dates’. It wasn't that easy faking a relationship, they were good friends after all. Friends. 

Sometimes late at night Roman would sit out on the side of the road right outside his house. New winter snow littered across the muddy ground, lonely stars hanging amongst a field of clouds, and a small chill rippling Romans thin royal red sweater. It was a contemplative spot, the place he’d sit to watch the cars wiz by, drink a cup of coco.

The place he’d come to reminisce over the string still missing around his wrist

Was he really not good enough?

Did he not deserve a soulmate?

“Hey Romeo!” (A nickname Roman had come to earn after his repeated insistence that he and Virgil we’re too young to start ‘dating’.And it had caught on 'cause even Virgil had started using it) Virgil yelled as he kicked a soccer ball directly at Romans face!

Roman quickly scrambled to grab it, tackling it to the ground and gripping it tightly in his gloves. “You have terrible aim.” Roman growled as he stumbled his feet, taking the ball under his arm so he could dust the mud of his jeans.

“You're the goalie, you're who I’m supposed to hit.” Virgil deadpanned with a sly smirk, kicking his purple cleats into the wet grass.

“No, you're supposed to try and score!” Roman yelled, punting the multicolored ball in frustration. It spun through the air before soaring over the field fence and into the rich forest.

“Are you not a score?” Virgil chuckled maliciously.

“Shut up!” Roman almost blushed, just like when he almost cried when he realized he didn’t have a soulmate, just like he almost imagined if Virgil was actually his soulmate. Almost.

When Roman turned 15, he learned to face facts. Logan and Janus had been going out for an impressive few years; Patton had just started talking to his soulmate, who lived across the world, online; And he still was stuck at square one. But no matter, it was just how things were, and he had accepted that. He just wasn’t a cut out for a soulmate.

“So..you still don’t have yours?”

“No” Roman sighed dramatically, laying back on his rosey red bed sheets. The two had biked over to Romans house so they could both work on an upcoming test in social studies. And they had both gotten derailed. As per usual. 

“What do you think that means, like, it's almost taboo to ask, and google is being surprisingly useless..” Virgil rambled, leaning back in Romans desk chair, chewing on the tip of a blue fountain pen.

“Yeah I tried googling stuff too but it says everyone just eventually got one..maye there is something wrong with us?” Roman contemplated.

“Maybe.”

“Hey, do you think we should go on that double date thing Logan offered?”

“Sure, then we can just be wrong together.” Virgil smirked sadly.

“Sounds perfect.” Maybe he still wasn't as good at facing facts as he thought.

When Roman turned 16 ½, he got a string. 

He woke up with a massive headache, the early sun streaming irritatingly into his half drawn eyes, and the twinge of ribbon tightening around his wrist. There it was, the one inconsistency, minute disoray, his single resolve, mended in an instance, like sewing up torn overalls. Life always was like that, no tension build, cinematic moment, just a quick and natural progression. 

After he finally managed to knock himself out of shock and force himself out of bed, he threw on clothes, grabbed his backpack and raced out the door. He didn't bother alerting his parents, calling his friends, all he needed to do was follow that pretty pink string.

And as he sloshed on his crown patterned driving gloves, slammed his ruby red sneaker on the gas, and hightailed it down the driveway, he found himself face with two equally terrifying outcomes ahead of him. Either the world had finally matched him with some amazing magical soulmate, or at the end of the tulip pink line..was Virgil. Of course at first he thought that was preposterous, but the more he flipped it through his mind, the more real it felt. He couldn’t deny that he had started growing some sort of attraction towards Virgil's deep raven hair, comforting smirk, the way they could sit forever on a twilight beach and never run out of things to talk about. 

Roman gripped the faux leaver wheel of his dads beaten up truck, spinning around a tight corner and onto a rough dirt road. It wasn't even made of concrete, just plain, and bumpy gravel, the path lined with cowering oaks.

Then he tugged on his string, the end was near. He smashed the brakes, leaping out the door as the car came to a disgruntled stop, then he ran up a daisy covered hill, summer air rippling through his messy hair. 

But as he tossed himself over the hill, all he saw was a bendy iron fence, and inside a gathering of mossy graves. 

Walking down the hill and through the busted gate, he wandered through the headstones, sweatshirt catching and tearing on one of the stone's sharp edges. 

And then he found the end. The pink ribbon was tied around a pale grey grave, the words inscribed on the stone so old they were unreadable, mushrooms and vines growing on the crumbled rock.

Quickly, Roman pulled out his cell and quickly pulled up Virgil contact, pounding the call button.

“Vir..gil..” Roman trembled.

“Roman, is that you, what’s up?”

Roman didn’t answer.

“Roman, hello?”

There was a crackle of silence.

“Ro?” 

“No strings attached right?” Roman asked, desperation flooding into his soft mumble.

“Yeah? Why, what's going on?”

Roman walked over to the twisted fence, and in one swift movement, he cut the string on the sharp metal. The pink immediately turned a burnt black.

“It’s..nothing,” Roman replied.


End file.
